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by Racing_For_Life



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Antonio plays the Volin, Backstage kisses, Beta read by my English class, Brief Mention of Suicide, Cake, Charles finds his home, Charles is jealous of Max and Daniel, Charles is not as straight as he thought, Charles likes Max, Esteban plays the piano, First Kiss, Graceful Dancing, I can't tag very well but I think I got most of it, Lewis ships Max and Charles, M/M, Pierre is a good Bro, Pierre likes to glare at Esteban, Pierre plays the piano, Regret, The Nutcracker, Work for an English lesson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29202108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racing_For_Life/pseuds/Racing_For_Life
Summary: Charles comes to England after getting into The Royal Ballet. Then he meets Max, and he realises he probably isn't as striaght as he thought.The Nutcracker is the biggest show of the year. And there's something going on backstage as well.This work is complete, and something I spent many English lessons to work on.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Charlotte Siné (mentioned), Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Antonio Giovinazzi
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I had a creative writing module in my English lesson, so I wrote this. And my teacher liked it, so i thought I would put it on here.

Monday. The best day to start things. 1st September. The start of a new academic year. 

Charles walked into The Royal Ballet School at half past nine, and was immediately hit by the smell of polish. He looked around, it wasn't surprising really. The banisters on the stairs had been polished within an inch of their lives, and every table was shining. Even the intricate marble floor and columns had some sort of glint - dulled of course by the hundreds of students and teachers walking through the lobby everyday. 

He pulled out his timetable, almost disintegrating already due to the amount of times he had folded it and unfolded it on his way to the school. The train ride has been stuffy, and the smell made him feel slightly sick. And he was nervous. 

He had to go to room 16, and he wasn't sure who to ask. He spotted a group of boys probably around his age, but decided against it, for fear of making a wrong impression. Suddenly, a girl about a year younger than him crashed into him and they both fell to the floor. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you," the girl exclaimed. 

"It's ok," Charles replied, extending a hand to help her (unnecessarily) get up. He swallowed hard, noticing the slight tinge of toothpaste in his mouth, 

"Would you be able to tell me where room  16 is?" 

She did, and  he padded through the archway she guestured too. 

Charles had started dancing when he was five, in a dance school dominated by female dancers. He had dated a girl for a year - Charlotte, that was her name. But was this new chapter in his life? Geographically, definitely. He had won  an opportunity giving competition in Monaco when he was seventeen, and got lots of offers from prestigious schools to take him to work for them. He had done so much research into the history of each and every one of them, and their countries, and decided to go to The Royal Ballet School in London. 

He had been through some very rough patches of his life. But this was new, this was exciting. This was also very scary. It was a new country, and Charles was  extremely glad he had two other French speaking people that also worked at the Royal Ballet. Pierre and Esteban, although they didn’t get along very well - something to do with all the mini music competitions they did when they were in France. He knew better than to get involved because it was nothing more than a childish feud that they were both too proud to give up. 

But Charles has survived  the tedious debilitating days of the school , yes he had been broken down, but he managed to build himself up again. It hurt to think of those who hadn’t made it, and sometimes there was guilt, that he had made it but not them. He tried not to think about it too hard. 

So this was a new chapter, where no-one knew the amount of time his rebuilding took, and he  could make new friends without that judgement . He cast his mind back to Charlotte, why did he feel so weird about her? Maybe London would bring more than just new friends. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up

Charles was brought back to his senses when  a piece of classical music started playing in one of the rooms down the  pasage . He looked at his  dead  timetable, and it was that room that he was supposed to be in for his first lesson, so he walked silently down the corridor, which was slowly emptying of people going to their lessons, and pushed the door open a crack. He peeped through the gap he had made, and revealed a  rapturing  dancer. 

Charles knocked on the door lightly, 

“Hello? It says I’m supposed to have my lesson here now?” His voice thick with his Monagonesque accent. 

“Oh, hello, Yes, I have a lesson here now too, come in - you’re not interrupting anything, I was just getting in some practice before lessons. The others should arrive soon,” He held out a hand, “I’m Max by the way.” 

“Charles,” he shook the outstretched hand. 

‘The Others’ arrived fairly swiftly after Charles and so did their teacher, who instructed them to the barre, and gave them exercises that they needed to practice. 

The week passed without too many problems. Charles spent a lot of that first week with Max. The next Monday Charles came into the studio - dubbed the ‘home studio’ by his fellow classmates - and Max was there as usual. He was performing his audition piece, Charles recognised the music as the music given to all the boys in their class to choreograph a dance for their audition for the Christmas production of The Nutcracker (of course). Max didn’t hear him come in, so he sat down by the wall to watch his friend dance. 

It was beautiful, every move he did  rippled into one, like a river  cascading through its middle course - powerful, with never ending energy , his movements clear as the water in it, and the curves as beautiful as the meanders, parts left in certain corners, like the ox-bow lakes  . His jetes were impeccable, with so much poise, as if this was his natural instinct. Charles supposed it could be, the way the music flowed through him.

His eyes followed Max around the room, the latter either not noticing the former, or perhaps he just didn’t care. Charles could not take his eyes off him. The piece of music came to an abrupt end, finishing on a crescendo that sent shivers down Charles’ spine. Neither boy said anything, Max moving noiselessly across the room in his ballet shoes to take unplug his phone from the speaker. 

Soon after , the rest of the boys in his class arrived, and they stood at the barre at first, waiting for their teacher to arrive. The lesson passed, but for the rest of that day and the Tuesday following, Charles could barely keep his eyes off Max, almost as if he had seen a part of him that no-one else had. He wondered whether this was a normal thing. 

Wednesday was the auditions, so the class was canceled to give everyone time for last minute practices and panicking. 

Their group was called , and Charles was sat by the piano with Pierre. 

“Mate, what’s up? You’ve been really quiet this week,” Pierre asked, in French so no-one would understand too much, 

“Nothing, just practicing for auditions,” Charles replied,

“Come on, I’ve known you since you were ten, I know when something’s up,” Pierre nudged him. Max walked into the space, and Pierre had to pause the conversation to play Max’s music. Once again Charles was enthralled by every movement,  each one almost impossible better than the last. 

The music ended and Pierre slipped off the stool. He heard the door open and looked up, it was Esteban. He sent a glare towards the other Frenchman and resumed the conversation with Charles. 

“So, come on, what’s wrong,” 

Charles answered him in such a whisper that he wouldn’t have been able to hear him more thana meter away, 

“I… I think I like Max,” Pierre’s eyes widened, and Charles wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole, “What?” he asked, because Pierre still hadn’t said anything. 

“Um…” and he turned to look over to where Max was. 

Charles’s eyes fell on Max, and the lighting tech guy named Dan, “What?” he asked again, because he still didn’t see the problem. 

“Max is dating Dan.”

Charles’ eyes fell to the ground, mirroring the feeling of his heart falling through his chest. 

“Let’s just concentrate on The Nutcracker, yeah,”Pierre patted Charles’ arm, who nodded. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, and everything works out alright

The opening night of The Nutcracker had come around, and Charles woke with a sense of excitement, but also of extreme anxiety. What if he messed up? What if he dropped the girl he was supposed to do his lifts with? What if his costume broke? 

For the past three months, he had managed to keep his feelings for Max at bay, hopefully not making anything too noticeable. Pierre knew, and kept teasing him about it, but apart from that, everything had gone suspiciously smoothly, even down to the last dress rehearsal. Charles just hoped the old theater superstition about dress rehearsals and the show didn’t apply to ballets. 

He got on the tube, full of people as always, and inhaled the musty smell that now seemed to ground him, rather than make him feel sick. 

He walked through Covent Garden, to The Royal Opera House. Charles spotted the man bun of one of the violinists, Antonio, who was going out with Pierre. He nodded to the Italian, and went to find Max, and the rest of his class. He found them in their dressing room, and was handed a dress bag by Lewis - the costume director. Everyone was stretching, or going over different parts of their dances, or doing some weird traditions that they had acquired. Charles started doing his warm ups, every now and then looking over to Max, and then diverting his eyes. 

When Act One people were called, Charles nodded to Max, and made their way to the stage. Charles caught sight of Pierre in the Orchestra pit, and they winked at one another. Everyone was told places, and as they all rushed on stage Charles cast a glance over to Max. He was present, poised and perfect, and Charles felt a tug on his chest as the curtain rose, and the theatre was filled with a deafening applause. The music started and the dancers forgot everything, all the feelings, all the anxiety has been taken away. The dance came naturally to each and every one of them, and Charles felt as if it was all over too quickly when the curtain fell and the room was again filled with vigorous applause. 

The First Act ended, and the interval began, with the audience getting their refreshments, and the company getting ready for act two. 

Act Two came and went without too many bumps. It was what happened after it that Charles would never forget, even when he was old and grey. Max had called him over and they were walking back to the dressing room. Charles had said something that he would not be able to recall, but Max was laughing. His eyes were glinting and his smile was twinkling like the stars. Charles stopped, noticing the lack of people in the back corridor. Max turned to face him, almost inviting him in. 

And then Charles kissed him. 

Charles stopped, pulled away as his hands flew to his hair. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to- I’ve got to go,” And he ran off, leaving Max to stand there. 

They both weren’t in Act Three, only the Finale which everyone was in) and they both had to stay in the dressing room. Chalres spent the whole time avoiding Max’s gaze, too angry at himself for letting his feelings run away with him. Max was playing a card game with one of the other boys in the class called George, Charles was reading a book, in French. 

They were then all called for the Finale, in which Max and Chalres had to stand next to each other. Charles found it extremely awkward, but the curtain dropped for the last time, and everyone was let off the stage. Charles was going to run back to the dressing room, but someone had caught his arm. It was Max. 

“What do you wa-” Charles began to ask, but his sentence was stopped when Max crashed his lips onto Charles’ own. 

“You can’t do this! What about Dan?” Charles asked, quietly, so as not to draw attention to themselves. 

“We… er, we broke up, a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t really anything too serious anyway. And then I realised I liked you,” Max said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Oh, ok,” Charles returned, not really knowing what to think. 

Suddenly a figure appeared from the side, it was Lewis. “Finally, you two seem to have found some sense,” that was all he said, then he walked off. 

“Do you want to come to the party with me?” Max asked in a soft voice, referencing the party that usually went on on opening night. It was filled with soft drinks and cake, and people just letting loose for one night. 

Charles nodded, and Max took his hand. Upon entering one of the rehearsal rooms that had been set up for this, Charles grinned at Pierre who stopped glaring daggers at Esteban for a moment to grin back, and George patted him on the back as he handed Max his cards back. 

And, Charles realised, that for the first time in a long time, he was happy. He was home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that is it! The ending makes me feel so happy and warm inside :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this :) please comment any thoughts, they would be gladly appreciated.


End file.
